


Late Talk

by CarrKicksDoor



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrKicksDoor/pseuds/CarrKicksDoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“I’d rather not have to try to explain another three a.m. walk of shame to Eric."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic based on a few scenes from 4.5 "Out of the Past, Part 1"

She’s snuggled in the bed he finally broke down and bought to share with her when he comes back into the house after retrieving her go bag from her Mini-Cooper.  “I’m glad you finally took my advice on this,” he says, dropping on the bedroom floor before stripping his sweats back off and climbing back into the bed.

She gives a snort of laughter as she crawls out of bed, the dim light coming from the bathroom silhouetting her nude frame as she drops her jewelry from the day before into a smaller bag inside it.  “I’d rather not have to try to explain another three a.m. walk of shame to Eric. So you were right.  I needed a go bag in the car, not just at the office.”

“What did you end up telling him anyway?” he asks, his eyes watching her as she steps into the bathroom to fill up a glass of water.   Three months ago, she never would have walked around his house naked.  The first time they’d made love, he’d been able to watch her blush all the way from her cheeks down her breasts, but three months later, she seemed to delight in the way his gaze would follow her from room to room.  “I tried to get him to stop.”

“I know, but he thinks he’s Sherlock Holmes,” she says, taking a long swallow.  “Anyway, I told him I’d been out drinking with Hetty and crashed at her place.”

He raises his eyebrows.  “Hetty? You don’t think he’ll ask her?”

She shook her head.  “After she gave him a two day hangover last time, he’ll be too afraid to ask her.  She might invite him to go drinking again.”

That was true.  He’d been there for that particular instance, and Hetty’s ability to hold her liquor never failed to astonish him, with the exception of the instance with the mechanical bull, which was not something he ever wanted to repeat.  “Besides,” she says, handing him the glass.  “She’d cover for us anyway.”

He nearly spits out the drink he’s just taken. “She doesn’t know!”

She climbs up on to the bed on all fours, looking entirely amused.  “G. You’ve known her longer than I have. Do you honestly think for even two seconds that she doesn’t know that we’re sleeping together? Or are you just really hoping she doesn’t know?”

“You know it’s against protocol,” he says softly.

She sits back and studies him, and he really wants to be doing anything else than having this discussion, like pushing her back until she’s laying back flat against the mattress and he’s skimming his mouth down her neck.  “Are you happy?” she asks suddenly, in the way that she has, but he’s gotten used to her sudden changes of subject and seeming non sequiturs.  “With me, I mean.  Does our relationship make you happy?”

This is suddenly getting far more serious than he ever contemplated, and he reaches out to turn on the floor lamp by the bed, flooding the bedroom with light.  Now, her face does flush a bit, and she reaches for the shirt he discarded at the end of the bed, pulling it over her head, and he has to admit, she looks better in a flannel button-up than he does.  “I’m happy when I’m with you, yes,” he says, choosing his words carefully, and he knows she lets it go because she knows him well enough at this point not to push any more than that.

“That’s all Hetty cares about, you know,” she says. “I mean, yes, she cares about our work, but she doesn’t overlook the people involved for the work.  She loves you like a son, G.  If you’re happy, then she’s happy.”

He tilts his head to look at her.  Her red hair is all askew, adorably rumpled from where he’s run his fingers through it, and he knows that she does make him happy when they are together, and right now, that’s all he’s asking for, and she’s not asking for anything more either.  “You’re very wise,” he says.

One side of her mouth quirks into a smile. “Well, to be honest, she may have come to me and had a ‘What are your intentions toward Callen?’ discussion with me.”

He groans, covering his face with one hand.  “She didn’t.”

Her giggle confirms that Hetty, in fact, did. “I’m not going to ask how she found out.  I probably don’t want to know.”

She shakes her head.  “We probably don’t.”  She crawls up under the sheets with him, tucking herself up next to him. 

“That means I’m going to get a ‘What are your intentions toward Nell?” talk later,” he says.

“What are your intentions toward me?” she asks.

He’s silent for a moment, fingers trailing up and down her arm, and she looks up at him. “G.  I didn’t mean to—“

He places a finger over her lips.  “One of these days, Nell, you’re going to find a better man.  One you can take home to your family and who won’t have to lie about who he is and what he does.  Until then, I’ll take you however I can get you.”

She’s never lost for words for long.  “You’re a dork.”

That was not what he was expecting.  “What?”

“For God’s sake, I have to lie to my family about who I am and what I do, G. What’s one more cover?”  She shakes her head, snuggling back down into the blankets next to him. “For someone as smart as you are, you really can be dumb sometimes.”

He turns off the light and lies there awake with her in his arms and remembers this conversation later when Hetty asks him what his intentions are and gives him a look of disgust when he still can’t articulate what he’s feeling.  “Really, Mr. Callen,” she says.  “I’ve known ex-KGB technical officers with more emotional intelligence.”

He frowns. “Did you just call me a dork?”

Hetty sniffs and turns her back on him in disgust, and he hears a snicker behind him as she approaches, her pixie hair perfect, headset firmly in place.  “Told you,” she whispers in his ear as she passes by.


End file.
